


Backstage Pass

by TheOrchid (loveoftheimpossible)



Series: If We Could Make Another World [1]
Category: Lost
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Flash Sideways Universe, Gen, Multi, general spoilers for what they're all up to in the Sideways verse, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-04 09:56:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10274273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveoftheimpossible/pseuds/TheOrchid
Summary: After the benefit concert, Miles finds himself swept backstage and promptly bumps straight into the man of the hour.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm _definitely_ working on a few more (nsfw) science team OT3 fics, but I figured I'd get this one out of my system first!

After the encore, Charlotte seemed to disappear without a trace – which was a small nightmare for Miles, since he was her ride home. All he wanted to do was head back to his apartment, shower, pop a sleeping pill, and pray that the headache that was already forming from the screaming guitar earlier would fade into oblivion in cool dark of his bedroom. Ten minutes had passed before he spotted his father, bustling around with one of the other event planners while trying to wrangle chairs.

‘Hey!’ Miles shouted, waving a hand a bit to catch his attention. ‘Have you seen Char?’

Dr. Chang still moved a mile a minute, pulling a lanyard out of his pocket. ‘Been busy, try backstage.’ He swiftly tossed the braided lanyard with an attached plastic rectangle towards his son, who caught it – a backstage pass, courtesy of the Golden State Natural History Museum. ‘Try to clean up while you're in there.’

Grumbling, Miles slipped the lanyard around his neck and headed off into the museum proper, but not before getting a tray of half empty wine glasses spilled on his suit jacket by an unlucky waitress on his way. He hated going to these things for this exact reason; there were always too many people, too many things to go wrong. He preferred the company of the dead, or of the handful of people he could consider friends, over the bustle of his father's over-the-top events any day.

Unfortunately, the universe wouldn't let him get off that easy, and instead he had a man walk straight into him, heads connecting hard enough to make his headache go from bad to worse in an instant. Miles closed his eyes and curled his hands into fists, ready to tell off whoever and whatever he could until he could go home, when a soft voice caught him by surprise.

‘Uh, are you….okay?’ the voice said; if Miles didn't know any better, he would've said whoever it belonged to was stoned.

Opening his eyes, Miles saw a pair of golden brown ones staring back at him, too close, blinking slowly. Focusing further, he noticed a mass of dark hair stuck under a hat, and equally dark facial hair surrounding a worried mouth. Under the head was a thin body in a crumpled shirt, vest, and tie, seemingly underdressed for the concert. Something seemed familiar, but he didn't let that stop the anger that was ready to boil over.

‘Watch where the _hell_ you're going, Jesus!’

‘I'm sorry, I just get a bit….lost in thought, sometimes.’ The mess of a man extended his hand, though it seemed as if he couldn't quite control his own limbs. ‘I'm, ah, Daniel Widmore.’

 _Oh shit_ , he immediately thought, _my dad’s gonna kill me_. Of _course_ the star of the concert _had_ to be complete klutz, and of _course_ he had to lose his temper with him. Oddly enough, Daniel looked nonplused, despite just having been yelled at.

‘Do I know you?’ the pianist asked, rubbing the hand that was outstretched over his arm awkwardly once he realized Miles wasn't planning on shaking. ‘You look….familiar.’

Miles unclenched his hands and shoved them into his pants pockets, trying to will himself into being calm. ‘My dad organized the benefit.’

‘Dr. Chang’s your dad?’ Daniel stated, not quite a question. ‘So, you work for the museum, too?’

He couldn't help but scoff at that. ‘ _God_ no. I'm a detective for the LAPD.’ He paused, considering. ‘Miles Straume.’

Daniel nodded, looking deep in thought. ‘That doesn't explain why you look familiar, though.’

‘What?’

‘Uh, nevermind. Sorry,’ he said, almost a whisper, maybe something you'd hear in a dream. ‘I should be going. It's nice to have met you, Detective.’

Just as Daniel turned to go, Miles decided to bite the bullet and ask for help, grabbing the musician’s shoulder to get him to stay. ‘Shit, wait, have you seen a redhead back here?’

He felt a small static charge run through his fingertips, like he had been running around all day on the old shag carpet in his mother’s apartment in his favourite socks when he was five. It was a strange sensation, something that felt powerful when it had happened, but just a moment later he couldn't quite recall what it had felt like at all.

Daniel slowly turned to face him, mouth slightly agape and brows furrowed. ‘Are you….looking for Charlotte?’ he asked, an unreadable emotion on his face.

Miles was slightly taken aback by the question. ‘Yeah, I'm her ride home. You've seen her?’

‘Oh,’ the other man responded, expression settling on….sadness, perhaps, or disappointment. ‘Yeah, she was around here earlier. One of the guests had a baby and I think she went to check on them?’

‘Thanks,’ Miles responded, heading further into the building to continue to search for Charlotte. He felt brown eyes burning holes into the back of his jacket and tried his best to ignore the knot forming in his stomach.

In mere minutes, he spotted a shock of red hair in a dressing room, and he ducked into it, finding Charlotte hanging up a damp towel. She turned and smiled brightly at Miles, picking up her purse from a small table nearby.

‘Miles! I was just about to call and see where you were.’

 _Why didn't I just think of that?_ Miles gave a tight smile, just a quick upturn of the corners of his mouth. ‘Figured I'd use my day job to help me find you,’ he joked half-heartedly, and she laughed.

‘Well, you found me! I hear the mayor will be holding a press conference to commend your bravery shortly.’ Charlotte stood in front of him and squeezed his arm. ‘You alright?’

He shrugged. ‘I got wine spilled all over me before the pianist from the concert ran into me, _literally_. My head is killing me.’

Charlotte gave a small smile and rubbed her friend’s arm soothingly, though Miles just found it irritating; he knew better than to push her away though. ‘I bumped into him earlier as well, though less in the literal sense and more of the figurative.’

‘Yeah, he mentioned that.’ At that, Charlotte raised an eyebrow, the tips of her ears going slightly pink; she was clearly asking an unspoken question, but Miles had already settled on pretending he didn't see it. ‘I get that he's a musician and they're _supposed_ to be eccentric, but he's fucking weird.’

She swallowed, clearly tucking away her questions for later – and they definitely _would_ come up later, though most likely in the car where he couldn't escape. ‘So, you ready to head home?’

‘Hell yes.’

They headed out of the museum and towards the car, Charlotte’s arm linked securely around the detective’s so they wouldn't get separated again. While Charlotte chattered away about the baby that was born during the concert, Miles couldn't help but feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at some unknown force. Cautiously, he looked over his shoulder for a moment and spotted Daniel under a light post, looking almost pained as he gave him a small wave. Before Charlotte could notice, he looked away, the gears in his brain starting to turn.

Maybe he _was_ familiar after all.


End file.
